


hawkeyed

by kyrilu



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2906825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyrilu/pseuds/kyrilu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment in the dark, under the stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hawkeyed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brownberrypie](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=brownberrypie).



> For brownberrypie, who prompted for: "Something with Will running his fingers over Matthew’s ears. because that is just perfection.”

The stars are out over Wolf Trap. They look different - they’re not how they would look like over a city, mixing in with the lights of electricity and passing car headlights. They feel like aloneness, more muted.

Matthew is used to people. He likes to imitate people and blend in. Fade into the chaos. In front of Will’s house, the sky open and wide, Matthew feels small. Almost scared.

It’s stupid. He knows how to bear his teeth and wield knives like talons. He knows how to aim a gun with an eagle’s eye. He shouldn’t feel this low thrill of apprehensiveness under his skin, the yawning expanse of the dry grasses stretched out before him like it’s about to swallow him whole.

Will finds him sitting on the porch. Matthew is watching the sky with his limbs curled around himself. He wants to be bigger than the heavens - that’s what he’s always wanted to become.

Will studies him, like he always does, and his eyes read the fear or impatience or whatever the hell it is off of Matthew’s body language. He slowly sits down, settles beside Matthew.

"Birds of prey are supposed to see in the dark," Matthew says. He tips himself sideways, his head falling into Will’s lap. "But it seems like that’s not something that I possess. Night vision." His mouth quirks into a smile.

"It almost felt like you did," Will says quietly, "in the hospital."

Of course. The sharp-eyed orderly watching his fellow hawk.

"What do you think is out there in the night?" Matthew asks. "In the dark. In the absence of the right vision, of the right environment."

(Hannibal Lecter is still out there, somewhere, after all.)

Will pauses, leaving seconds of silence between them. Then he says, “Let me show you something, Matthew.”

He describes the darkness, first. He talks about things lurking in the shadows, there before you strike back. Randall Tier in his manufactured suit of a beast. Hannibal Lecter in his suit of a human being.

Then he talks about a river, with its murky waters and its currents. He talks about the stars rising over it, and the fish beneath the moonlight. In Matthew’s mind, the fields of Wolf Trap whisper, turn over, transform, and they’re nothing but the cool waves of Will’s river.

Will touches Matthew’s hair, the bare skin of ears, as he speaks, his hand warm and rhythmic, and Matthew closes his eyes to the motion.

When Matthew opens his eyes, he can see in the dark.


End file.
